Late Night Visit
by Nara-hime
Summary: Eight years into the future finds Jack slightly drunk, and a certain Wind Dragon inquiring on his health. Its better than it sounds XD SLASH! JACKRAI PAIRING! One Shot


AN: Just because there's not enough. Don't take me wrong, I'm still a RaiKim fan, but I've been exploring and this just captured me. ENJOY!

Rating: T for implied sex

Warnings: Drinking, slash, m/m, all that jazz

Pairing: Rai/Jack

Disclaimer: Woop! Forgot this! XDDD Don't own nothin here! Cept the idea!

Jack… was sulking. Jack Spicer, Boy Genius, was sitting in his basement, watching reruns, and just sulking. He popped open a beer and poured it down his gullet, not even noticing the alcohol seeping into his blood. After he finished it, he threw it into the wall to shatter amongst the other five he had just drained.

Even though he was already twenty-four, this was only his second time actually drunk.

He decided he was being a baby.

Jack wrinkled his brow and hiccupped slightly as he lay back on the couch, his eyes staring blankly at the blurred ceiling. After eight years of being beaten by those Xiaolin losers, he had decided that he needed a good sulking night… but it wasn't like it was a big defeat, oh no! All that little jerk had to do was get him caught in his jade-green eyes and he was opening his mouth and closing it again like a retarded koi fish.

He closed his red eyes, bloodshot from watching TV for five hours straight and sighed heavily.

That Brazilian had cheated.

Definitely cheated.

No one could be that drop dead gorgeous, right?

Jack groaned and hit himself in the forehead as hard as he could. Yes, he was definitely drunk.

Suddenly, the doorbell sounding from upstairs demanded his attention and he hoisted himself out of the couch and trudged along the house. He was just turning the corner into the main hallway when he heard his mother talking with someone who answered with a… _Spanish accent?_

Jack 'eeped' slightly, shocked slightly back into a state of near soberness as his mind started working. He could now smell the alcohol clinging to his clothes, and the mirror showed that his eyes had shadows under them and his makeup was all runny. His hair was clinging to his face in slightly dirty clumps and his eyes were bloodshot messes. He gulped slightly as his mother's voice became clearer. Perhaps he wasn't as drunk as he had thought.

"Really? Jack said you could come over to discuss something with him? This late?" his mother was asking the other twenty-four year old. Jack groaned inwardly. Now Raimundo knew that he lived with an overprotective parent even if he was in his twenties.

"Yes," Raimundo said, ever as smooth. "He said that he would be sure you wouldn't mind, seeing as he hadn't really been doing anything for the past couple of weeks."

Jack scowled, how did that wind dragon know that.

"But, you're one of those Xiaolin Monks, aren't you?" she asked and Jack could just imagine Raimundo's startled face. "Jack's been ranting about you guys all day before he locked himself with a couple of beers in the basement."

Jack cringed, once again, at his mother slip of his current state.

"Even if I am your son's enemy doesn't mean I can't be worried about his health," Raimundo said, his voice still suave and calm with just the slightest hint at an accent that practically screamed sexy. Jack growled and covered his mouth as he saw Raimundo lean a little to his left to check out the sound and ducked as their eyes met in the mirror. He couldn't tell if the dragon had seen him until a slight breeze lifted his hair back into place from where it had hung loosely. He groaned and stepped around the corner, toeing the ground with his boot.

"I've got it, mom," he muttered and winced as his mother patted him on the head and went back upstairs. "What are _you_ doing here?" he practically spat acid at the boy.

Raimundo's eyes sparked with some barely concealed mirth at Jack's embarrassed words and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Didn't you hear?" he asked, his voice lowered slightly as his words tumbled out with even more of that accent that was heaven to Jack's ears.

The redhead could feel his cheeks redden and quickly looked anywhere but the Brazilian standing so calmly in front of him.

"You were acting weird today, even Omi was starting to wonder."

"What are you doing here?" Jack merely asked again, this time with real annoyance in his voice. His smoldering red eyes met Raimundo's dancing green ones and they held gazes until Raimundo looked away, not able to withstand Jack's intensity.

"Believe it or not, Spicer," Rai said, his words cutting into Jack's skin. "We are the _good _guys and we tend to worry about people's health," Rai raised his eyes again, dancing with fury, to meet Jack's suddenly sheepish ones. "You've been getting weaker lately Spicer, and believe it or not, we owe you a lot. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you."

"What?" Jack said, his head snapping up from where it had sunk, his eyes staring intently at the carpet beneath their feet. "Since when?"

"About eight years ago when I went over to the Haylin side," Rai said softly. Jack suddenly noticed that the softer Rai's voice got, the more of his accent came through. It was probably the same when he got angry. "It was only because _you_ sent Omi back that I was able to get Wuya back into the puzzle box, or did you forget?"

"Oh," was Jack's response.

They stood in uncomfortable silence, Rai's eyes boring into Jack, examining his waxy complexion and the shadows under his eyes with some hint of worry. The cocky, self-proclaimed genius was gone, and in his stead was a tired young man who seemed to have finally accepted that he would never come out on top. Something in Jack's dead gaze pulled at Rai's heart.

"Want some soda?" Jack asked, trying to get some noise into the air after a while. He didn't even wait for Rai to say anything before turning to the kitchen, fighting to walk as straight as he could. He had always found that just after two beers he would loose the ability to walk in a straight line. After five he started seeing funny and after six his speech would slur.

He opened the refrigerator door and crouched down, palming a few beers aside almost shamefully. Suddenly, a tanned hand came into view and scooped up one of the green bottles and Jack watched, in some amazement, as the cap just flew off and the boy took a rather deep swig.

"What? Can't I drink?" Raimundo asked, feeling, more than seeing, Jack watch him.

"That little wind trick was something," Jack said idly, removing an orange soda and turning to raise an eyebrow at the wind dragon. Raimundo just cocked an eyebrow back at him and, with a smirk, the thin metal oval piece of Jack's soda flew upwards, hitting the ceiling before floating down slowly to Raimundo's open hand.

"Practice, Spicer," he said simply and looked at Jack's thin frame again. "Something you haven't had with a fork, I see."

"Keep my metabolism out of this," Jack sniffed, closing the door and walking off, leaving the Xiaolin Monk to follow him. He walked down the hall, down the stairs, and shoved the magazines on the table to the floor and sat down on the sofa in front of the TV and turned it on. He nearly yelped in surprise as Raimundo walked up behind the couch and leaned his elbows on it, arms crossed casually at the wrists as the beer bottle hung loosely from his left hand. Jack kept eyeing the bottle that was gripped with three fingers around the neck just under the slight rim and gulped, not wanting the liquid to ruin the couch.

Rai just watched the pale red-head with some interest as he obsessed about the way Rai was holding the bottle until he was staring at it, eyebrow twitching slightly, as his head still faced completely forward. Deciding to torture Spicer just a little more, Raimundo leaned down, his hair falling down perpendicular to his face as he found himself a mere inch from Jack's nose.

"Don't trust me to hold a bottle?" he asked, turning his head and flicking his hair back behind his ears as he watched the Television intently. He made sure his wind was ready and let one finger let go of the bottle as Jack gulped visibly. He smirked and watched as the bottle slipped from the two fingers and was instantly caught by the up draft he had called up. However, that didn't stop Jack from lunging forward in an attempt to catch the bottle.

It basically ended up with Rai moving his body to avoid contact with the boy and calling up his element hastily to move the bottle. Rai, tripped, he grabbed the edge of the couch to pull himself forward, and thus a little to the right, as Jack turned over, watching with wide eyes as the bottle landed and spun a little on the table, before his vision was blocked by brown hair and he lost his ability to breathe. Rai ended up hitting the bone part of his nose on Jack's shoulder and sat up, his knees digging into the couch on either side of Jack's thin hips as he hissed, glaring down at Jack who was still looking at the bottle in shock.

"Oh…" Jack said, dumbfounded for the second time that night.

"Oh is right," Raimundo seethed, leaning forward and placing his hands on the arm of the couch to glare at Jack, his face inches away again.

Neither of them noticed the compromising position until a certain part of Jack's anatomy hit a certain part of Raimundo's.

The Brazilian's eyes snapped shut and he instantly froze, a blush growing on his cheeks as he hissed through clenched teeth. Jack had never seen anything sexier.

"_Dues,_" Rai muttered, involuntarily shifting to get that same jeans rubbing jeans friction they had gotten just a moment earlier.

"What?" Jack said, his voice shaky and somewhat higher pitched. Rai opened his eyes, heavy, dark, and unbelievably green, and just looked down at Jack before a slight smile, not a smirk, tugged at his lips.

"_Dues,_" he merely repeated before gently moving a piece of Jack's hair from his forehead, his fingers ghosting the suddenly hot skin on his former enemy. "_Belo._"

Those two words, spoken in a language foreign to Jack Spicer, were the most beautiful ones he had ever heard. Although he could guess the roots to those simple one-syllable words, he didn't want to ruin the moment. However, curiosity killed the cat.

"_Belo_," he murmured, a rough approximation of what Raimundo's silky voice, so rich with his accent, had murmured. "¿_Mim?_"

Raimundo's eyes widened slightly before he closed them to chuckle, a sound that resonated deep from his chest. Suddenly, the Brazilian knew what had caused Jack to act so weird earlier, what had been eating at him for some time now, and it awoke a certain part of him he had closed off from the world eight years ago.

"_Sim… mue amor._"

Jack's eyes opened wide as he felt and saw silken lips take his own. His eyes slid shut soon after as the tan boy atop him licked at his lips.

"Rai…" he murmured slightly into the other's lips.

Rai pulled away with another lick to the chapped lips and opened his eyes halfway.

"_¿Que?_" he whispered, wanting to get back to the boy's lips which were just inches away from his own. Red eyes opened to look up at him.

"No more Portuguese," Jack murmured, wanting to get Rai's now smirking lips back onto his own.

"You don't know what I may do, Jack," he breathed, his accent so thick it was almost hard to understand what he had said, as he leaned down to recapture the redhead's lips.

Jack smirked to himself.

It was the first slip of Jack's first name from the Brazilian's lips in eight years, but it would surely not be the last.


End file.
